The John Griff Column: When ‘Knock, Knock’ means more than ‘Who’s There?’

The sense grew the more I thought about it too. Was it all in my head though or was it misplaced anxiety borne out of a culture of supposition and stereotyped predetermination? And should I feel guilty about it?

On Tuesday morning, the doorbell rang at home. I’d been working in my small study area – it’s roughly half of a small bedroom but which for some years now has seen radio content recorded, whole programmes broadcast and articles like this written. It has a commanding view out over the cul-de-sac in which Lois and I live and it allows me to keep an eye on things, wave to the neighbours and work, mostly in peace.

I love it there – it is my den and somewhere to retreat to when the creative bug bites or needs exercising. It sits right above the front door to the house, so as well as waving to the neighbours, I note the visits of our postman (Dave) the binmen (unnamed) and the plethora of delivery and van drivers who quite literally drop things off before dashing away as fast as their sometimes quite battered steeds will let them.

When the doorbell rang, I wasn’t unduly concerned. Thinking it was another delivery (the postman and binmen had already made their rounds that day), I went downstairs, opened the door and greeted my visitor. Roughly 5 feet 10 in height, apparently aged in his early 20s, of slightly rounded build and sporting a somewhat floppy mass of dark hair, he presented himself as a someone in the process of setting up a block paving and driveway cleaning business and could he perhaps interest me in his services. Standing in the light drizzle of the morning I initially applauded his apparent determination to make something of himself, even if knocking on doors that day had rendered him somewhat sodden.

As it turns out, I have a friend who has such a business. It uses specialist cleaning equipment, specialist cleaning fluids and, in the case of block paving, sand to replace any displaced by the process. My friend made quite an investment in getting started, wears his own uniform and has a sizeable van in which to transport all his machinery and materials. Everyone has to start somewhere, but in front of me stood a soggy lad dressed in baggy tracksuit bottoms and a half-zip sweater. He had no card or explanatory leaflet - and he was on my doorstep.

Explaining that I already had a friend in the same line of work as the young would-be entrepreneur and that no, on this occasion we wouldn’t be needing his services, I wished him well in his endeavours and was on the point of shutting the door when he suddenly changed tack and made admiring noises about my car, liking its make, shape and colour. Asking me if it was also a personal registration number on it, I explained that it was, having come with a car I’d bought a number of years ago. When I came to change cars, I’d kept the registration number, moving it over so that nobody would know how old the ‘new’ car was. ‘I thought so’ he said. ‘I think I’ve seen it on a few cars actually.’

At this point a number of small alarm bells started ringing, as one. Had the story about setting up in business been precisely that – a story? Was the young man actually here with ulterior motives? Had he been watching my number plate?

Politely and encouragingly, I brought the conversation to a close, whereupon he gave me a cheery goodbye and walked off, staring at the car as he did so. That was enough for me. I shot upstairs to watch where he went - but he had vanished.

It was at this point that social media came to mind, and although I have criticised it often in the past, it now proved its worth. Amongst the residents in our cul-de-sac we have a WhatsApp group, just as the village has a Facebook group.

My young visitor’s confident patter had begun to crumble somewhat as it replayed in my mind, so I reached for my mobile phone and fired off a warning message. Almost immediately a neighbour responded, saying that the same young man had been at her front door some time ago, trying to sell her compost for her garden. Now, the bells were starting to ring louder, particularly as this neighbour had subsequently become a victim of a distraction burglary.

Then, another in the group piped up. Handily, he’s a police sergeant. Asking if there might be any video doorbell footage available, I discovered that we had some and that I could take a decent sample from ours, enhance it and circulate it. And from there it all went quiet.

Not using the car that day, I made sure that all the security devices associated with it (there are a number of them) were switched on and armed. I have a bright yellow steering wheel immobiliser, so I made sure that it was prominently and securely fitted – including its little winking LED warning light. I have a metal Faraday Cage bag for the ignition key, so in that went. And then I physically blockaded the car in, just for good measure. I like my car – I did not want it stolen.

That all done, I then started to worry in case I had mistakenly or unfairly misjudged my visitor’s intentions and demeanour of simply being a car-loving young man.

What if he really was just trying to find a way to make an honest living? Was I letting stereotyping get in the way of reason and was I being unduly cynical about him? Had I become a modern-day Doubting Thomas? I guess I’m not going to know unless some disaster befalls my car, and it vanishes off the drive in the reasonably near future.

Suffice to say though, that in less than 5 minutes on Tuesday I found my attitude towards personal security being given a swift updating – and recognition being given to the virtues of being able to reach out to others through social media messaging. Somehow both made me feel more engaged with the people around me as we looked out for each other, which is no bad thing.

To the young man, going from house to house in the rain to find work and an income – if you truly are the real deal then I wish you every success in your labours and I apologise if I had you all wrong.

I look forward to seeing you drive round in your branded driveway cleaning van at some point – and I will engage your services if you call again.